[DruulEmpire]

Somehow, somewhen, Paige, the nervous-seeming one, has turned into a TIGRESS.  She has killer eye contact, and she does it all, allowing the dance to become quite strenuous and steamy.  I have to comment to her on the change and she laughs; I say "Someday I have to get you upstairs" and she grins and enthusiastically agrees.

So you would think that would round out my evening, one in which I thought I would just meet Nolin.  Yes, I was also hoping to see Stormy Daniels, but it looks like she's putting off till midnight or thereabouts and I'm not sticking around for that.  Anyhow, Elwell comes in -- and the hell of it is, she keeps looking better all the time.  She takes her time coming in with the night, about two hours late, but it's worth it as she enhances her exotic Haitian body (already newly enhanced in the breasts, good playful roundness where there was really none before), and she's always complimentary, claiming I've lost weight (eh, hah -- at least she's sweet).  Her eyes are more amazing that ever, still golden but somehow flashing green.  So now, of course, she's my second upstairs dance.

I will never understand the Elwell thing, and probably shouldn't, because it's so ludicrous.  How and why does a woman so hot, an E-list or D-list micro-**29** in her own right, keep being so generous with me ...

[DruulEmpire]

She is a DETERMINED woman.  Before her, the last woman to grab my cock (through my pants material, you understand) and try to stroke me to climax was Teri Weigel.  Crazily, I forget till it's all over that I stuffed a reasonably opaque blue robe in my briefcase as possible camouflage (from the nosy staff) of our actually making serious sexual contact.  But we get hot and bothered, and she kids me, and I get to tease her about her own flashes of minor **29** (it's really killing me more and more that I can't openly brag about her).

So it's a great night after all -- but between beers, champagne, my own smuggled burgundy, two upstairs dances, plus the lovel Lourdes and the tigerish Paige, I really do need to get on home, and I'm pretty well bombed out that Saturday.

But here's the thing: I still have a birthday present (way early) for Columbia, and I resolve to try to pin her down the following week.  So I do -- but even that simple mission gets some surprises.  You see, it's been a while since any of the new talent has wowed me, so I tend to concentrate on my top eight or twelve gals whom I've gotten to know over a couple of years.  But when I go in Monday, June 1 for Columbia, I'm in for an education, for right there on the stage when I go in is a kind of young Lisa Rinna ...

[DruulEmpire]

No shag-cutting for this Rinna, though, just long straight lustrous black hair, which with her tanned skin somewhow gives her more of a Rinna-meets-Kardashian (but not Kim) look.  Her odd name is Nestra, and she's a good booth dance.  Then I am almost immediately charmed by a simply classic blonde cheerleader type -- Gawd help me, but I'm ancient enough to remember Kathy Lee Crosby, and that is who this gal Asha reminds me of, except it's KLC with a wonderfully fake boob job, a slight unevenness marking the right of the right breast.  I see her and think: booth.  As seems typical of the more blatantly boob-jobbed, she is rather cautious and reserved in her dancing, still giving a good time but not at all going for the grope or the steam.  No matter: the evening has paid surprising dividends.

I catch the Russian Yolanda getting off, which is a shame because we're just missing each other and a dnace is out of the question, but she informs me that she and Columbia are dancing as a team in three weeks.  Say what?  What does that even mean?  Some sort of special girl-on-girl act?  My imagination boggles -- and that's about it, as my scheduling won't let me be there for it.

But at last Columbia shows up, and while we get in some dancing, the main thing is that I give her red elbow-length gloves from Saks Fifth Avenue.  They actually look better in the club lighting, and they fit!

[DruulEmpire]

I had sweated that, so I felt relieved.  With Columbia it's always a sweet and gentle encounter, and so that cooled off a surprisingly hot evening.

But I still had some unfulfilled needs left over, so I stopped in one last time on Thursday, June 4.  I managed to get in a few more songs with Nolin, whereupon I impressed upon her that I might show up for Halloween and pulled a gorilla mask (really more of a werewolf, I think) out of my briefcase.  She left for the night and I think we ended well.  Then Columbia turned up and I hung out with her, and she seemed to be in a direct competition with Heidi, that being the Turkish-born German-raised Uschi-Digart-like juggs goddess of the club.  Columbia went off to snag an old firend and take him upstairs, leaving heidi to come over and snag ME and take ME upstairs.

Upstairs with Heidi -- it was kind of a fantasy come true, and once more I appreciated the limits of fantasy.  I noticed her navel jewelry and she told me she was up for a belly dancing competition, but she showed off no such dance for me.  Instead we got on what was basically an extended, and more comfortable, booth dance.

After that it was another gentle time with Columbia, and I impressed upon her the gorilla mask as well as an old photo of me as a bright-eyed toddler (I was doing some housesitting with my folks away and "borrowed" that ...

[DruulEmpire]

Then the evening's remaining little surprises rained down on me.  I got to scoop Asha up for another song, and got in some time at last with Yolanda as well.  Then, finally, Elwell turned up again, and we got in more booth action.  I recommended to her that she check her, um, Socially Intimate Networking System, or SINS (this being a BEA-specific euphemism), because I'd left her some steamy stuff and, as I put it, I didn't want to wind up in a concrete foundation of one of her boyfriend's construction projects.  I learned the previous Thursday that her Mr. Mafia boyfriend was a Greek-born contractor who had her running a little of the business.  The woman is into EVERYTHING.

So it was a successful series of visits -- but it made me realize all the harder that, seriously, I have to remake my life.  Gorilla mask, kindergarten photo, smuggled wine, a blue robe -- cute enough, but gimmicks.  I need to be able to confess to some sort of LIFE with these women -- and then, of course, confess a life to an ACTUAL woman, one to relate seriously to.  Who knows.  Maybe in October.

[Hoogleboogle]

Wow, this is a very nice thread.


I have visited strip clubs a lot, but I've never been when there was a feature dancer. This isn't to say that there haven't been features worth seeing--Chelsea Charms, Lovette, Crystal Storm and Casey James are all features who I have missed in the past. What would usually happen is that I would find out they were in town about a month after the event took place.

Because of the economy, these days there aren't many clubs in my area which have feature dancers. There are really only two that do it anymore, and the acts which they book are a lot less well known than say five years ago. I am definitely out of the loop as far as feature dancing goes because I don't really know a good place to look for schedules besides the club websites, which sometimes aren't updated to include news about features.


When I was reading a few of the recent posts, I saw that Shyla Stylez was mentioned. For those of us (such as myself) who enjoy hardcore pornography, she is definitely a terrific performer. When I read that she was doing feature dancing, I said to myself, 'Man, I wish she would come to my town.'

Reading this thread sparked my interest to check around. I looked on a local club's website and -- Lo and behold, Shyla Stylez will be feature dancing there next month!




Now I'm going to read more of this thread to get an idea of what I can expect. I know it's probably a pipe dream, but I've gotta ask...have you ever had any luck getting these nationally known girls to have some fun with you outside the club?

[DruulEmpire]

Before anything, my thanks to those out there who have boosted this all-text thread to a views/posts ratio of over 251:1.  Unfortunately, a lot of that may just have been robot searches of some kind, perhaps for the phrase 'the male is in the Czech" which also turns out to be an actual video -- but any actual human eyeballs out there, I appreciate.

Hoogleboogle -- sorry to have let the question go so long, in part because I can't even begin to answer it.  As a working-class non-driver who needs to lose 70 pounds, I haven't had any luck getting a HOUSE GIRL out of the club, let alone a feature dancer.  Unless we're talking the whole Body Miracle thing, and I've weighed that from time to time but never been convinced to go for it.  I know one BEA member who had quite an adventure with a feature entertainer, but he hasn't posted in half of forever.

Anyhow, I figured, why not an early Halloween?  Stuff a werewolf mask in a briefcase, take that whole week off, and come on down.  So I did, three times.

The place looked the same as ever.  However, I've learned that the owner won some sort of Hall of Fame award in the exotic dancer world, and a little redbird tells me that he may install a kitchen and double the size of the place.  No set timetable, though.  But for now, it's still very much the same club I first walked in on ...

[DruulEmpire]

Monday is always the most mysterious day, because the on-line dance schedules run Monday thru Sunday and yet the new ones are never put up till first thing Tuesday morning.  So I have to go down and look over the announcement board, and the selction looks good, so I hang out for a bit -- and my Haitian Sensation Elwell and hot German (Turkish-born) Heidi turn up. 

Caught Elwell in a throwaway slasher flick, and Iron Man II did not come through for her.  However, in a forthcoming movie Love and Other Drugs, a movie based on the selling of Viagra, the brother of Jake Gyllenhaal's character is played by one Josh Gad, and she's in a mild girl-on-girl scene involving Gad.  You heard it here first.

Anyhow, we're sitting admiring Heidi's voluptuous curves as she goes onstage, and then she asks if I want to go upstairs, and I don't need any more encouragement than that.   We still need to play a bit of the "sneaking around the crazy mobster boyfriend" game, so we're surreptitious about discussing this down in the club, but things relax in the champagne room.  Wild to think I'm this girl's "affair," as she doesn't seem thrilled about getting pressured towards marriage, and once again I wonder how I lucked out.  Maybe it's my manners, or my ability to play it cool and sneaky -- or maybe I'm simply this Haitian's favorite flavor of vanilla, who can say?  We are combustible once more and before I know it for the second time in nineteen months I am experiencing actual sex once more.  And this is Monday!

[DruulEmpire]

I'm naturally a bit winded by the wild success of Monday, so much I don't even hang about to try to find Heidi.  But I come back Wednesday, which turns out to be a milder time but still very nice.  My Red Queen Columbia is as punctual for the evening shift as ever, and after hanging with some guy talking about his Army buddies she apologizes and hangs with me, and we get caught up a fair bit during our twenty minutes.  I have to wonder: have her breasts grown, or have I never closely appreciated them before?  It's enough to wonder if after working at such a place a woman can develop a mystical "breast osmosis," since Columbia's not the sort to go under the knife, and her breasts look and feel as natural as ever.  She talks about her plans to go adventuring, to see every state in the Union, and she gives tips like how great is is to shower at a truck stop.  I have to ask "But what's in Vermont?" and her immediate reply is "Ben and Jerry's."  Gotta love her.

Elwell turns up again -- but she's looking and sounding real busy.  I'm able to catch her onstage and then dancing in the "cage," where I slip her a birthday card (December 2, and I figure I'll be foregoing any Thanksgiving outings).  It's superficially yet strangely romantic, the thing we have.

The eving is rounding out by gorgeous Russian Yolanda, who is fire and ice.  The ice is simply she's the one gal this week whose breasts I did NOT get to touch (yeah, well, Elwell has learned a nice little "pec flex" trick with her subtly enhanced new boobs, so nyah-nyah) -- but get her going and there's some heat ...

[DruulEmpire]

So anyway, I've been showing the werewolf mask to the gals, who get a kick out of it, and it's Columbia who suggests I surprise Yolanda with it.  Unfortunately, this gets to her wanting to mention the "Twilight" books to me, but what can you do.  It hurts, for breasts so magificently fake to be so untouchable, but towards the middle of our extended booth time she hangs onto me naked and grinds away in tight fast cycles and gasping "Fuck!" over and over into my ear.  Would that I could, I think but don't say.  It's a good rounding out of Wednesday.

Funny thing is, I've pretty much forgotten all about the actual feature entertainers -- but lo and behold, I arrive just before an actual 6:45 PM matinee show by Tanya Taylor, whom I've reviewed here before.  At first I'm the only guy seated down at the stage -- and she REMEMBERS me, my Murdock alias and all.  Kills me how some people have that facility.  Anyhow, she's there in classic neat crisp schoolgirl costume, short pleated plaid skirt and all, and she dances up a storm -- she's a fitness fuh-reak and it shows.  Eventually a couple more guys come down and it's a good show.

With the evening shift comes Columbia, and my only regret is that we kept bumping into each other but never found a nice moment to say Au revoir.  I hung out in the corner as Tanya kept whisking by, and I first got a great long booth dance off her -- she's the whole hot-looking squirming squeezable package, I continue to recommned her -- and then ... 

[DruulEmpire]

I get two pictures of Tanya (the Polaroid age of Memphis Monroe is sadly gone), one with me in the werewolf mask and one out, and I pick up an 8x10 of her as well.

So I'm thinking, This may be as good as this week gets, and I'm considering leaving -- when in bursts Heidi!  I apologize to her for Monday, and after some business upstairs she comes back down and we have out own booth dance.  Oddly revelatory (beyond the usual nudity): turns out her name is Aisha (at least it sounds that way) and that she's considering retiring from dancing, maybe around her birthday in May.  You can barely find a hotter, or younger-looking, MILF type, but that's her decision.  At least she's also had some success belly dancing.  We make tentative plans to meet up again around Xmas.

So that was my early Halloween, and it worked out pretty well, with only two regrets: I was never able to hang out long enough to have a shot at meeting Ricki Raxxx, and I never felt moved to try out any of the newer girls.  It's enough to make me wonder if I could just hang around upstairs with the champagne rooms and recruit girls as they sunter by.  Maybe for Xmas ...

[Hoogleboogle]

That's sounded like a fun time.

There are hardly ever feature dancers in my city. And when there are, it's usually not a lady who interests me -- It's always something like a naked magician or a naked comedian or something.

Later this month, a porn star named Alexis Texas will feature at a club in St. Louis (I'm in Kansas City.)
She doesn't have big boobs, but if she let me give her a spank then I might drive over if I have nothing to do that weekend.

[DruulEmpire]

We're all just doing what we can, Hoogle.

I've decided I've been fortunate to make this club part of my life.  Yeah, I know that sounds trite and superobvious this late in the thread, but always in the back of my mind I figured "Eh, my life is rather off-kilter and this is therapeutic."  At last I figure, Fuck therapy, this ought to be part of a man's education.  I like it as is because it's about the selling of sexuality rather than sex; sexuality is exploited so much in the selling of everything else that the very idea of sexuality getting showcased PURELY FOR ITS OWN SAKE (well, that plus the "Oh yeah, I go to that bar because of the drinks they serve" cover story) is mildly revolutionary.  Of course, if I'd been wise enough to dream up the "Sorry, but I'm in Columbus now" excuse much earlier I might be a tad richer today, but no matter.  The hell of it is, I suspect these visits in toto are more satisfying and less expensive than some marriages out there.  I don't know how the fuck Albert (the owner -- he recently won some sort of national award) does it, but he has a knack for snatching up the hottest women, and area club reviewers testify to that, something along the lines of "This and that place have these great features -- but the girls at Blush are hotter."

Case in point: Natalya.  (Yes, another of my pseudonyms, my paper-thin attempt to keep a little anonymity to all this.)  Who's Natalya?  I didn't know myself till last night, which I figured would simply be my saying Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to hot German Heidi.  HAH!  The club definitely had other plans for me ...

[DruulEmpire]

So I'm there a little early (at last, nice snowman-making weather here in the Burgh, and yet it doesn't really slow the buses down much at all), figuring I'll just catch Columbia and Heidi (see past posts) and I'm sitting at the bar nursing my Sam Adams contemplating the so-so dancing, when this woman with this really glamorous wide-eyed lip-glossed face, intense without being overdone, walks right up to me and squeezes my arm and ask if she can sit by me, and I look at her and the first thing I wonder is "What the hell is Eliza Dushku doing in this place?"  (And no, it's not like I'm a big Eliza fan, I've been aware of her but somehow never felt riveted by her -- until now).  We inform each other quickly enough: turns out this Natalya is a new hire, just been there one month, and she's from Russia, though the accent is very faint.  So we chat, and she tells me she needs to tell me a secret, so she leans forward and breathes hotly into my ear, at which I point I figure, Let's go upstairs and discuss this secret of yours.

Not sure how she latched onto me so passionately -- truth to tell, she seems thorougly mercenary, and I was not looking at all that prosperous that night, no trenchcoat, none of that.  Then again, the club has been slightly slower of late, men still come but the Great Recession causes them to beg off taking a dance -- all the better for me, of course, because I never go without being loaded for bare, cashwise.  And it was to be quite an expensive night ...

[DruulEmpire]

Maybe it's just me, but even a hot woman can pour it on too much.  Natalya was all about the sex, which of course can be fine, but she was also about the sex cliches, which can be, Ehh.  It's a matter of personal taste, and you have to advise such women, tailor them to your needs.  She stripped down to panties pretty quickly -- nothing that amazing by BEA standards but still totally respectable -- and not that long into the dry hump she made "big dick" noises.  Thing is, I've a perfectly standard caliber weapon down there; back during my Project Perversity experiment (see past posts), I had fun faking the girls out, but that got to be too much bother and I had gathered enough data, so I went back to good old me.  But I always figure, it's sweet to say so.  Trouble is, she then started calling me Daddy, and that gets me antsy even in writing, when I catch it in our Addventure or over at CHYOO2, so I get her (with mixed success) to try the nice neutral "baby" instead.

I love women's egos, because they're so damn sure they can get a man off, pow, just like that.  Natalya kept riding me hard before I could finally calm her down and explain, no, it's not going to happen, but I'd be interested in her going after her own pleasure.  So that she did ...